The three of us talked, waiting for Meredith to come in. For those of you new to my blog, she ran against me for class president, and when the vote came in, the two of us got the same number of votes. The election was eventually decided in a school assembly, with someone drawing a name out of a hat. The winner became class president, the loser vice president.
"This meeting started ten minutes ago," I told her.
Flicking her hair, Meredith replied, "So? What's it to you?"
"As president of the sixth grade, I can tell you that the meetings start at three o'clock and I expect everyone to be here. You think there are special rules just for you?"
"Tell me why I should care about your stupid meeting."
"Well, because we're planning the Valentines' Day dance."
Meredith shook her head. "When's the dance? Oh, that's right, Friday the thirteenth. How exciting for you. You see, I'm not going to be at your stupid little dance. It's the night of my parents' big dinner party. The next day I'll be leaving to compete in the Miss Louisiana American Girl pageant. The winner goes to nationals, and, well, I'm going to nationals. So, your dorky little dance means nothing to me." She bobbed her blond head as she whizzed past me. I wanted to cry but I straightened my skirt.
I know I shouldn't care whether or not she shows up at the dance, but since she's on the student council, I'd like to have her pull her weight in planning it.